Tis a Gift
by Frankie Beeblebrox
Summary: Percy Weasley, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic recieves a box. Please read and review!


**_A/N: It's mine, I tell you! Mine! Mine! Mwuuhahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!  
  
Well. . . not really. But dang if that wasn't fun._**

It was a simple box, wrapped in brown paper and sealed with spellotape around the edges. There was nothing particular about this box that would set it apart from any other on his desk, but Percy's eyes fixed on it immediately upon entering into his office.   
  
There was no mistaking the clipped, precise handwriting on the front of the parcel, no matter how much he wished he hadn't known what it was.   
  
_Percy I. Weasley  
Third Office   
First Level  
Ministry of Magic_   
  
The owl that had delivered it was obviously long gone, but he looked surreptitiously around the office for him anyway, almost hoping to find the ragged bundle of feathers lying down on the job.

No such luck. Not even a stray feather.   
  
Blast.   
  
Percy closed the door to his office as quietly as possible and skulked around the back of his desk, trying to take the package by surprise.   
  
It couldn't hurt him if it didn't know he was coming.  
  
Slowly. . . slowly he inched upon it, a hunter stalking his prey. With a pair of dull scissors.   
  
He was being ridiculous and he knew it, but this idiocy was infinitely easier than actually opening up the box before him.   
  
He tried to remember to breathe. Breathing was a good thing. In. Out. In. Out. In.   
  
"It's just a box, Percy. Just a plain, normal, box. The same variety you get every day in the mail, you prat. Now open it!"  
  
He dove, a hawk descending on a vole, snipping the spellotape from it's sides before springing back out of the way of the aftermath.   
  
The box sat there. Imperturbable as ever.   
  
Cautiously, ever so cautiously he came closer to the sides and lifted it up.  
  
Leaping back behind the refuge of his desk, Percy waited for the spider/hinkypuck/dungbomb/ghoul/mountain troll to emerge.   
  
A bit of red tissue paper crinkled in the breeze from his oscillating fan.   
  
Maybe the twins hadn't gotten this one after all?   
  
Maybe. He poked the box with his wand. Poke. Poke. Poke.   
  
Still nothing. Odd. Who else from home (NO, not home, he reminded himself sternly. The Burrow) who else from The Burrow would send him anything?   
  
Placing his wand ever so carefully on the desk, he leaned over and looked into the box, ready to dive behind his chair at any moment. . .   
  
Nestled into the red and gold tissue paper was a hand knit blue cable jumper, with a large P in gold on the front.   
  
There was no note accompanying the jumper, but he didn't need one to understand. It was his Weasley Jumper, the kind he receive every Christmas from Mum. Before his brain had even had time to register a complaint, his arms had lifted the jumper over his head and were pulling it over his robes of their own accord.   
  
It fit perfectly. As it always did. As he knew it would.   
  
It was warm and scratchy and smelled of The Burrow's kitchen, where his Mum did all her knitting. He wrapped his arms around himself and inhaled deeply. . .  
  
Just as the Minister of Magic walked through his doors.   
  
"Weasley, I was just wondering if you had finished. . . what in Merlin's name are you doing?"  
  
Percy could feel the heat rushing up his body as he pulled his arms from his face. "Nothing sir. Nothing at all."  
  
"What's that you have on over your robes? You try taking up knitting? It's bloody awful."  
  
"No sir. . . it's nothing. Something someone sent by mistake."  
  
"I see," the Minister scowled. "It looks remarkably like one of those dreadful things Arthur wears around the office under his robes."  
  
"Yes, sir. I know."  
  
"I thought you had quit with those. . . kinds."   
  
"Yes, sir. I have. I was planning on sending it back."  
  
The Minister seemed to brighten at this prospect. "See that you do, Weasley. And while you're at it, make sure you have those reports from the High Inquisitor on my desk before you leave tonight. She has some more decrees she wants to pass through tomorrow."  
  
"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."   
  
The minister strode from Percy's office, leaving him standing in front of his desk like a fool. He hated feeling like a fool. Especially in front of his boss.  
  
Mr. Weasley strode over to the door, viciously tearing the jumper from his body as he went. With a bellow, he thrust his head towards the desk of the evening secretary. "Lucy!"  
  
"Yes, Mr. Weasley? What can I do for you?"  
  
"I need some more spellotape and a return label for a package. And please make sure Hermes is back from his afternoon delivery? I want to send this out as soon as possible."


End file.
